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A Courtlie controuersie of Cupids Cautels

Conteyning fiue Tragicall Histories, very pithie, pleasant, pitiful, and profitable: Discoursed uppon wyth Argumentes of Loue, by three Gentlemen and two Gentlewomen, entermedled with diuers delicate Sonets and Rithmes, exceeding delightfull to refresh the yrkesomnesse of tedious tyme. Translated out of French as neare as our English phrase will permit, by H. VV. Gentleman [i.e. Henry Wotton]
 

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The pleasure of the fift dayes pastime.
 
 
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263

The pleasure of the fift dayes pastime.


268

In the White hande.

If she descende of Noble race,
A Goddesse porte hir minde doth craue:
If that hir Line be poore and base,
No lesse aduauncement would she haue.
The yll adorned beautie rare,
VVith follies fedde that seeke to see,
For gorgeous gaye I doo not care,
The modest meane contenteth me.
I dye to viewe Dame Chastitie,
Acquaynted with simplicitie:
The looke that leapes at libertie,
Doth hurt my sight exceedingly.
Ripe yeres in league with amitie,
Yeeldes euer most fertilitie:
But youthfulnesse vndoubtedly,
Doth lodge delightfull iolitie:
I loue the lustie and the lame,
The olde ne yong I not despise:
Of fayre and foule I doe the same,
The foolishe please me like the wise.
The lauishe toung and silent wight,
The smiling cheare and pleasaunt voyce,
Doth yeelde my minde alyke delight,
And make my heart alyke reioyce.
But to be breefe, my flitting loue
Doth flye and followe euery chase,
Yet nothing can my fancie moue,
To stoppe or stay in any place.

In the Blacke hand.

The great Estates doo most abounde
In ydlenesse and lawlesse life:
Among the meanest sort is founde
As yll or worse, in mayde and wife.

269

The brauest force the wise to mourn,
In viewe of their lasciuious trade,
The simple shamelesly do scorne
Good warnings by the sages made:
The Virgins gallant glauncing eie,
Bewrayes hir secreate wanton minde,
And Loue in age doth verifie,
A barraine stocke by course of kinde:
The fruite is sower being greene,
And yeeldes a sharpe vnpleasaunt taste,
Thus ripe and rotten both are seene,
To cloy the stomacke firste and laste:
I hate the fatte, I hate the leane,
I hate the faire, and eke the foule,
The redde, the blacke, the pale and greene
I hate, as birdes do hate the Owle:
The liuely louing lookes I hate,
I hate the simple foolish face,
The forced laughter, and the mate,
That frames hir song with whoorishe grace,
Their fond delights and lewde offence,
I haue so fiercely in disdaine,
As doubt do the daunte my conscience,
To thinke where women doe remaine.